Desks are made to be messed up
by lostloveloki
Summary: Quirking her lips, she grabbed hold of his moss-green tie, emblazoned with the fundamental theorem of calculus dozens of times, and pulled him down until her hungry lips could finally devour him with bruising commands. The story of how Professor Laufeyson broke college regulations.


Sif pushed a loose tendril of her ebony hair back while clutching her latest stack of string theory textbooks close to her chest. Her books were futile as always, since none of their professors ever stuck to them. But any books she had ever accumulated seemed inconsequential in comparison Professor Laufeyson's office which was filled with volumes upon volumes of old leather-bound books. The only white portion in the room was the massive whiteboard which ran along an entire wall, presenting Professor Laufeyson's tidy script.

"Professor, I had a question about the latest piece of coursework," she began as the hour reached its close, and the other students headed out, shuffling along quickly. Professor Banner's lecture on M Theory was about to begin, and nobody dared to be late to his lectures. Nobody.

Loki nodded briefly, still frowning at the equation he'd written down; somewhere along the line he'd lost a term…

"Sir, I was wondering… whether my approach in this question admissible..."

Finally turning away from the board, he gave his personal tutee a sidelong glance, raising a curios brow. Clearing his throat, he set down the whiteboard marker on the little music stand he kept in the corner beside his violin case, and turned to face her, leaning against a bookshelf.

"Which coursework? The second one is only due in three weeks' time. I'm quite sure no one's even started it yet…" he began, strolling around his office, watching the door automatically lock shut behind the last student. He pushed himself off the wall with his shoulders and crossed his arms, staring her down, but Sif just smiled.

She set her books onto the newly vacant chair in front of his chaotically organised desk, and rose, clearing her throat. "My actual question… sir, is whether or not I should do this particular bit at home or whether I will require college facilities…to reach completion"

Quirking her lips, she grabbed him by his moss-green tie, emblazoned with the fundamental theorem of calculus dozens of times, and pulled him down until her hungry lips could finally devour him with bruising commands.

"Sif…our agreement was that you would only do this piece of work at the Lexham motel…" he whispered against her lips, only to have her burning tongue lick his lips lasciviously. Pushing him back against the solid wood door, her legs tangled with his as their hips ground together in rough circles.

"Mm… I thought this might be more fun… Always working through the same conditions is so very dull… We're not biologists… although they do have some quite useful extensive knowledge in certain things we ought to research…"

"Slow down, Sif… I could get fired if this got out-" he protested, only to break into a moan as she palmed him through his tight jeans.

"Oh Loki… I don't even take your course… And I still can't believe that no one's noticed I've been gatecrashing your classes… "He smirked at that but gasped as she deformed his jeans enough to cup him properly.

"Plus, you've told me countless times how much you love …the danger…" Her hand found its way down his jeans, "The thrill…" her teeth slowly sunk into his throat, nipping and sucking lightly, "The heat." She brought his hand under her short skirt, until his fingers brushed against her wet panties.

"Ah... How are you so wet already?" He moaned, immediately stiffening under her skilled fingers.

"I may or may not have been fantasizing about you while you were explaining things… And I may or may not have imagined having you in front of the entire lecture theatre…being recorded…"

"Oh Sif-"

"Don't you find the thought of being caught by everyone… arousing?" She crooned, stroking his cheek lazily.

"Of course I do," he whispered desperately against her lips. Loki eye's flashed with desire, as the heat rippled through his body.

"Then what are you waiting for?" She walked backwards, sashaying her hips, until she hopped onto the table, placing each foot on a different chair. He glimpsed the lacy black underwear peeking out of her plaid skirt and the garter she wore. She bent forward resting her elbows on her knees, so that he caught a lengthy look down her blouse as well.

"You're toying with me," he accused her half-heartedly, too horny to be angry.

With her most innocent doe eyes, she bit her lip and whispered. "I'm so sorry professor… I didn't mean to do wrong… Please punish me for my insolence… "She looked away in mock-shame, she picked up one of his pencils absentmindedly, and began twirling it. "Hit me sir. Pound me… where it hurts best… Use the wood on me."

His eyes widened impossibly, but he fixed his composure immediately. But from experience Sif knew she'd struck a chord. Men are so easy, she thought to herself. All have the same fantasies.

"What happened, Professor Silvertongue?" her demeanor became taunting, "Haven't I trained your tongue enough? I thought those countless practice sessions would have helped by now… If you promise to give me private tuition twice a week, I'll increase _your_ private tuition classes from once a week to three times a week… Of course, you'll have to run through the material at least twice per class…"

"Sif!" Before he realized what he was doing, he strode across the room and pushed her back onto the desk, and was kissing her savagely. Desperately.

Hungrily.

His lips consumed every inch of skin they found, his fingers frantically searching to undo her buttons.

"If you take care of your trousers, professor. I'll do the buttons." Pushing him off, she slowly began undoing her buttons from above, down until her midriff, revealing a bra which opened in the front. "I thought you might like this model… I thought it was time to do a practical and test the functionality of the device in situations of high stress…"

He made an incoherent noise, and unzipped quickly, pulling his limb out his zipped. He was dripping with need, as he climbed onto the desk, placing each knee on either side of her.

"Condom." She breathed, pulling one out of her bra. "Always be prepared," Sif winked.

"Vixen," he groaned, completely mesmerized as she opened up the pack. She stared into his eyes defiantly, not even looking down at her target, as she slipped it onto him. "You're a temptress, Sif. A siren. You want to watch me burn, don't you?"

"No, sir. I don't want to watch you burn. I want to _make _you burn."

He hissed at that, but leant forward to kiss and nip at her exposed shoulder, while running his hands along her inner thighs. Her tender flesh sent shivers through him in anticipation. He knew her loins so well and yet he could never get enough.

"Your panties…" he growled, fingers delving under them, and tugging. He couldn't possibly get them completely off without climbing off the desk to remove her boots, and he certainly didn't want to wait that long.

"Rip them off…" she whispered, undoing her bra and softly massaging her breasts. "I need you in me…now"

"With pleasure." He growled, grabbing the scissors off the desk, and cutting straight across the crotch of her panties.

Grinning, she raised her legs on his shoulders.

"Good girl."

"I know I'm good," she winked. "How about _you_ prove the value of that doctorate on your wall, professor."

The wicked glint she'd fallen in love with reappeared in his eyes, and soon enough stars of ecstasy burst through her vision. With every shake of the table, when their licentious flesh smashed together, a ripple of seemingly never-ending pleasure danced through her. She bit into his shoulder to keep herself from screaming his name as she came, biting hard enough to draw blood. When she at last fell back like a ragdoll onto the sweat drenched desktop, clung to consciousness as blinding pleasure still hummed through her body, with Loki's continued thrusts. Mussing his hair she remembered why she had chosen him of all people. He was the only one who could always keep her wanting more.

Sif readjusted her skirt, fixing up her blouse again, as she hopped off, and bent down once more to kiss Loki. "That was fun, darling."

Loki nodded, reaching up and pulling her down into a lingering kiss. "I'm glad you liked my idea… I'll admit that stealing that stash of books from my desk at home was a nice touch. The students really didn't suspect anything," he chuckled, sitting up at last.

"Lucky for you, your wife looks twenty instead of thirty-three..."

"My little timelord," he crooned, twining their hands together, trying to pull her in for another kiss.

"Enough kissing, your face is covered in shiny rose lip balm," Sif laughed grabbing a tissue. "If we don't get it all off, people might think that you're pulling off a Captain Shakespeare…"

"Why? Do I incite fear and passion in the hearts of my crew members?"

"Passion is a given," she grinned.

"Well then, I'll be your Captain if you'll be my trusted sailor next time," he graced her with an impish smile.

"How about I'll be the monarch whose orders you've been disregarding, and they've captured you… Let's say they brought you over for a private audience so that I may pronounce your punishment…and your punishment will involve a lot of penance with your nimble tongue…"

"Much better," he murmured pulling her into his lap again. "This is exactly why you're the fantasy author and I'm the stuffy professor."

"Hmm…" She mumbled hopping out of his lap again, but turning to adjust his tie, "You're not stuffy, Loki. But you certainly stuff m-"

"- FUCK! I have to teach in two minutes!" He jumped off the desk and stared around like a headless chicken looking for his shoes. "Where are my shoes?"

"On your feet. We didn't really get around to-"

"Bye love!"

He grabbed a stack of papers and ran off.

Two hundred pairs of eyes stared down at their disheveled lecturer, who rushed into class like he was being hunted by a troop of super soldiers. The quiet buzz of voices didn't change as all the girls and some boys noticed the particularly swollen red patch on his neck.

"Looks like Professor Sexy got some," a brunette girl in the sixth row mumbled, nudging to her friend, Ellen. Ellen didn't bother looking up from her smartphone.

"It's the fourth time this month, Cynth. Seriously, you should consider showing up for lectures more often."

"Wait… It's only the 6th of February."

"Exactly."


End file.
